


Mister Ray of Fucking Sunshine Kowalski

by mondschein1



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, First Time, M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-20
Updated: 2005-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-10 10:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11125428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mondschein1/pseuds/mondschein1
Summary: He'd warned Ray about this, of course -- in between the other warnings, to do with rutting moose and polar bears and thin ice, he's sure he'd mentioned it. In fact, he very distinctly recalls Ray grinning at him unconcernedly, and declaring, "You just watch, Frase, I'll be good. I'll be dandy, you know why? 'Cause I am just a Ray of fucking *sunshine*, that's why." Fraser had blinked at Ray uncomprehendingly for nearly twenty seconds, and had then burst out laughing.





	Mister Ray of Fucking Sunshine Kowalski

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Mister Ray of Fucking Sunshine Kowalski

## Mister Ray of Fucking Sunshine Kowalski

  
by Giulietta  


Disclaimer: I don't own anybody here.

Author's Notes: A little semi-farewell piece to all you lovely people.

* * *

"Fraser," Ray says, and shifts noisily somewhere in the shack. "It's dark."  
  
"Yes," Fraser replies calmly. "Yes, I know." He works at the knots Ray's tied in the ropes over the sled; oddly, he seems more able to get them undone in the dark.  
  
"It's _been_ dark. All day."  
  
"Well, yes." The ropes fall away, and Fraser lifts Ray's sleeping bag out and throws it in the general direction of Ray's voice. Ray makes an irritated, surprised noise. "It's winter. I'd hoped to reach a town before this, but -- "  
  
"Yeah, okay, I slowed us down, I'm sorry for losing one of the skis, tell me something _useful_ , willya?" Dief bumps his nose against Fraser's knee twice; then Fraser hears snow crunching under his feet as he trots into the shack. Ray murmurs something to him as he passes, and turns his attention to Fraser again. "No, seriously -- how long're we gonna be here?"  
  
Fraser shrugs, although he knows full well that Ray can't see him do it. "I can't say."  
  
" _You_ can't say?"  
  
"No. Not at the moment."  
  
Ray's shoe scrapes against the snow. "So, uh -- why not? I mean -- what about those Northern Lights you've been telling me about? We could start tonight -- "  
  
"I wouldn't advise traveling by their light alone. Had we not found shelter, I might have tried it, but as it is..."  
  
"It's not safe?"  
  
"No, not particularly."  
  
"Okay." Ray 's hand brushes against Fraser's shoulder briefly before groping its way over his arm and onto the sled. "Just -- what're we talking about here, do we got days or weeks or -- "  
  
"Oh, weeks, certainly."  
  
"Weeks?" Ray bumps into Fraser. "Uh -- sorry, I was trying to get the -- "  
  
"It's all right." Fraser frowns at where he thinks Ray's face is. "Does that bother you?"  
  
"What, the -- no, 'course not, it's just -- weird."  
  
"Weird."  
  
"Yeah, that. But you know, I'm good with weird now. Got used to it."  
  
"Are you sure? Because -- "  
  
"Hey, what're _you_ gonna do about it?" Ray demands somewhat belligerently, and Fraser is forced to admit -- though silently -- that he doesn't exactly know.  
  


* * *

Ray seems to have decided that constant nighttime is synonymous to constant sleep; just now, he's snoring quietly inside his sleeping bag, and has retained the position almost perfectly for the past six hours. He's only woken, it seems, to eat and relieve himself -- and while Fraser might originally have wished Ray would talk less, it now seems uncomfortably quiet. Ah well -- it's as good a time as any to keep the journal up to date. Truth be told, his entries aren't as regular as he'd wish them to be.

Fraser rubs his fingertips into the fur behind Dief's ears while he rummages through his pack for a match and a candle. Dief makes a low, happy keening sound in his throat, and his tail thumps once. They haven't been talking much lately, either -- Fraser didn't think he'd have to deal with loneliness on this particular adventure, but then he didn't anticipate most of the challenges they've faced, and most of them were more formidable than this. He'll simply wait until Ray has exhausted the temptation of sleep, and then there will be conversation aplenty; no different, really, than waiting out an especially persistent blizzard.

Fraser closes his hand around the matchbook; a few prods to the left of it reveals a waxy cylinder. He props the candle up on the bare wood of the shack's floor and, having ascertained that it's stable, lights a match. Ray stirs; Fraser doesn't think much of it at first, assuming that he's merely responding to the change in lighting, and will soon go back to sleep.

So he's completely taken by surprise when Ray _lunges_ across the shack at him, squashing Fraser's arm and some tender part of Dief's anatomy -- dear Lord, he's going to set the whole shack on fire, and then they will truly be --

But no. Ray's put the match out, possibly because he's squashed it between the nylon of their sleeping bags. Fraser breathes for a moment, blinking wide-eyed at the darkness and trying to figure out where he's misplaced his left thumb. "I -- Ray?" he says, confused, and Dief whimpers from where his head is squashed against Fraser's chest.

Instantly Ray pulls away, muttering under his breath, so that Fraser can hardly hear him. "Uh -- sorry , I just -- it was making all the dark stuff more dark, y'know? Stupid -- you okay? Dief?"

"Ah," Fraser says numbly, rubbing at his wrist absently. "Understandable -- your pupils contracted, thus letting in less light than they were before -- "

"Fraser."

"Yes?"

"It's stupid. Stupid, okay? I'm not some kid scared of the dark, I just -- it just -- it's dark, Fraser." Ray's voice has dwindled to a croak.

Fraser wishes he could see Ray's face. It would help matters, he thinks, if he could decipher Ray's expression, because he certainly can't decipher his voice. "Yes," he replies warily, "yes, it is."

"And -- and cold."

"Yes." Fraser takes a breath, preparing for an argument. "Does that bother you?"

"No," Ray says immediately; there's a pause, and then: "Yeah. Yeah. A little, maybe. I'm kinda -- "

"Yes?"

" -- kinda -- I dunno, _down_. Or something. It's stupid," he adds defensively.

"All right," Fraser concedes, and waits.

"...you, uh, bring any of that Wart stuff along?" Ray's voice is almost pitifully hopeful, considering that he's asking for something that rather disagreed with him the last time he tried it.

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

* * *

They've stayed in the shack for weeks, now, and Ray's temperament has only worsened. Fraser has tried to relieve the dullness by hauling Ray out of the cabin and into the starlight; he's tried to tell him the most ludicrous tales he can create from the proximity of various constellations; he's gone so far as to weave an epic concerning the all the constellations on the ecliptic plane, and Ray had not even gone so far as to accuse him of being "full of shit," as he so often does. He's merely kept his eye on the slowly brightening spot on the horizon, and occasionally guessed half-heartedly at how long it'll be until it comes up again -- but he's very nearly _obsessed_ , Fraser realizes. Obsessed. Yes, that's quite accurate.

He'd warned Ray about this, of course -- in between the other warnings, to do with rutting moose and polar bears and thin ice, he's sure he'd mentioned it. In fact, he very distinctly recalls Ray grinning at him unconcernedly, and declaring, "You just watch, Frase, I'll be good. I'll be dandy, you know why? 'Cause I am just a Ray of fucking _sunshine_ , that's why." Fraser had blinked at Ray uncomprehendingly for nearly twenty seconds, and had then burst out laughing.

Ray doesn't laugh anymore. Fraser imagines that his face has grown pale and hollow and weary, though he doesn't know, of course -- he hasn't tried to provide any extra light since that first match. He doesn't want to distress Ray any more than is absolutely necessary; he fears, sometimes, that as soon as the sun rises, Ray will demand to be taken to the nearest airport. Fraser doesn't want that -- no, he doesn't even want to _think_ about it.

Ray is sleeping, just now; Fraser can hear his breathing, and the occasional snort. In a few minutes -- ah, yes, there; he's waking, and then he'll go out to have himself a look at the sky. Fraser rolls over and waits, resigned to having to drag Ray back in after a few minutes of waiting.

There -- there's the pad of his feet; the slide of cotton on felt as he puts his boots on; and now --

"Fraser! _Fraser_! For Christ's sake -- get up, get _up_ \-- " and Fraser finds himself being dragged out of his sleeping bag by his right arm. He stumbles along, rubs at his eyes --

\-- and there. There it is. "Oh," Fraser says quietly, looking at the play of the nearly horizontal rays across the slightly undulating snow. "You -- "

And then Ray's seized his face, entirely without preamble; he's seized Fraser's face in both hands and is pressing his slightly prickly mouth to Fraser's and pushing his tongue impatiently against Fraser's lips --

\-- and the only thing Fraser can think is, _Ray's back, he's back, he's risen again._

  
 

* * *

End Mister Ray of Fucking Sunshine Kowalski by Giulietta 

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